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Chapter 63
Beth Banks pacedback and forth across the width of the aisle. Her measured and determined movements reminded me of a boxer too hyped-up to sit down before a big match. Or maybe she was more like a tiger in a zoo, pacing back and forth, eyes always on the people watching her.
I would say she was sizing me up, but she’d already done that. Quite effectively. That’s when I realized she was waiting for word from her brother to let loose on me. It was really a no-win situation. Even if I defended myself, all witnesses would see was a tall man fighting a much smaller woman. It didn’t matter that she’d already knocked me off my feet and proven to be twice as athletic as me.
Now she stopped and looked at me as she opened and closed her fists. Maybe it was just a warm-up. She didn’t want to risk pulling a muscle while she beat me senseless.
She looked at me and said, “How’s the head feel?”
“I’m Irish. I’m more worried about your foot.” I figured it was better to engage her verbally.
Beth let a smile slip out. She had a lovely smile. Just a flash of warmth. I wondered what she was like when she wasn’t trying to punch someone. Too bad that smile didn’t go with her personality.
Beth said, “Good one. I didn’t know if a New York cop would have any kind of a sense of humor.”
“I didn’t realize you had a sense of humor until just this moment.”
“I’m sorry I gave you that impression. I like finding humor in things that scare most people. Take clowns. Normally, they make me laugh. What about you, Detective? Do you like to find the bright side to scary situations?”
I cocked my head to the side. “I swear to God, I can’t tell if you’re trying to intimidate me or flirt with me.”
“Trust me, Detective, you wouldn’t have any doubt if I was trying to intimidate you.”
I couldn’t resist. “Why is that?”
“Because you’d be looking up at me from the ground. Similar to our last encounter.” She turned to her brother like Do you need me? He gave her a subtle shake of his head. To me, Beth said, “I’m off to refrigerators. Don’t worry, Detective, I’m not looking for something big enough to store your body. From what I hear, no one in DC would care much if someone killed you. I doubt I’d even have to hide the body.”
I took the little comment, then said, “You know, in some places that could be considered a threat of violence.”
“More of a hypothetical threat. Just something to make me smile tonight over dinner.”
Beth stuck out her hand for me to shake. When I did, she showed me what a powerful grip she had. I didn’t wince or make any noise. I didn’t try to squeeze back. I let her have her fun. There was no doubt she was mostly muscle. She was also her brother’s muscle. She was forcing me to notice it and acknowledge it.
That’s why I had her as my number one suspect in Emily Parker’s death.
